


do you want it in birch

by verity



Series: tween wolf [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, IKEA, New house, Pack Feels, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of the receptionists and front desk workers of Beacon Hills recognize Laura on sight and smile at her. She never thought she'd prefer the brief flicker of recognition and lowered eyes she got after the fire, but it's fucking eerie, especially when she's showing up as Deputy Hale of Beacon County.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you want it in birch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_rocket_frost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_rocket_frost/gifts).



> Look, I just said Derek wasn't THE delivery guy, I didn't say he wasn't A delivery guy.

The bungalow has four bedrooms, two on the ground floor and two up in the eaves; a living room; a dining room; a spacious kitchen with a breakfast nook. The fireplace is bricked up. The backyard leads out into the woods, not too far from the ones that have been in her family for generations, but not too close, either.

Laura caves and calls Daphne two hours after she gets the keys, sitting at the foot of the stairs and staring at the wall that separates the sprawling living room from the back half of the house. "I need your help."

"Uh huh," Daphne says. "Did you break a nail?"

"I bought a house," Laura confesses.

Daphne sighs.

Twenty minutes later, she shows up with takeout from Thai Palace and a six pack of Fat Tire. "Come on, let's drink away your sorrows," she says, dumping everything on the floor in front of Laura and plunking down on the hardwood with her legs crossed beneath her. "You can't get drunk, but that's okay, because I'm the one who has to deal with your bullshit."

Laura slumps down and cradles her head. Everything smells soothingly of peanut. "Furniture. I didn't think—I have to buy _furniture_. Appliances. Insurance."

"So you were thinking I could help with that?" Daphne shoves a container of chicken pad thai at Laura's ankles until Laura takes it from her. "Because I know so much about that shit."

"Was I supposed to call Derek?" Laura asks before she shoves a forkful of noodles into her mouth.

Daphne pauses with a spoon of pho halfway to her mouth. A slice of onion teeters precariously on the edge. "Point." She puts down the spoon to take a slug of her beer. "God, he's probably going to turn into a wolf for a week and run around the old house and howl like someone died. You should bite an interior decorator."

"I wish he would," Laura says.

"Ugh," Daphne agrees.

—

Derek has worked for Fed Ex for two years. He's very good at his job, and well-loved by his co-workers, as Daphne discovered at the first office holiday party. She called Laura from the bathroom, horrified. "You're going next year. I can't cope with this."

All of the receptionists and front desk workers of Beacon Hills recognize Laura on sight and smile at her. She never thought she'd prefer the brief flicker of recognition and lowered eyes she got after the fire, but it's fucking eerie, especially when she's showing up as Deputy Hale of Beacon County. One time she was in the middle of arresting some drunk asshole at a bar downtown and he scowled blearily at her before brightening and saying, "Oh, you're _Derek's_ sister." On the way back to the station, he asked, "Hey, can I get your brother's number?"

If Laura never hears someone making a comment about her brother's ass in his work shorts again, it'll be too soon.

He's dating the assistant manager at Kinko's.

—

"Monica is nice and everything, yeah," Daphne says, three bottles in. They're surrounded by scattered takeout containers and tap water in red Solo cups that the previous owners had forgotten in the depths of the pantry. "Are we sure she's not a demon?"

"Deaton could exorcise her if she were a demon." Laura's not actually sure that Deaton can do that, but it's a nice fantasy, okay.

Daphne glares at her beer bottle. "What if he wants to tell her? About—us? Are you going to let him?"

It takes Laura a moment to process that Daphne's asking her as their alpha, not Derek's sister. "I don't know," she says. "It's not—what if Derek doesn't want to?"

"He _has_ to, if she sticks around," Daphne says. "That's not an option."

None of them have dated, not really. Prior to his thing with Monica, Laura hadn't pressed Derek about it. With everything that had happened with Kate, with the fire—it seemed normal, to her. Daphne was here, and then she was away at Harvard, where she's still got a year left, and she doesn't seem that into anyone, but that's kind of Daphne's M.O. And Laura—Laura had, has, other things to worry about.

Like Derek, who is now dating the assistant manager at Kinko's.

"What if they get married?" Laura says. "What if he wants me to bite her?"

"Veto," Daphne says.

"You don't have a veto," Laura says.

"Yes, I do," Daphne says. She tilts her bottle to the ceiling and tips back her head to drain it; her throat ripples as she swallows.

—

Laura picks out a bunch of stuff in the glossy catalogue and makes Derek drive down to the IKEA in Sacramento to pick everything up, which is possibly a passive-aggressive way of dealing with her girlfriend disapproval problems but also because she fucking hates IKEA and they're too far out for delivery. "I'm your alpha," she says, handing Derek keys to the truck and the rented trailer.

"You keep telling yourself that," her brother says.

"I love you?" Laura makes her saddest puppy eyes.

Derek sighs and rolls his shoulders. He smells annoyed, which Laura suspects is a finely honed skill.

"Come on, it's Tuesday, you'll be there by 11AM. You'll be in and out. You can get the meatballs," she says. "With jam. You'd better bring back some jam."

"You didn't circle that in the catalogue," Derek says. "Do you want it in birch?"

Laura puts him in a headlock and musses his hair.

—

"Ruth tells me that your brother and the lady at Kinko's have called it quits," John tells her when she comes in for the evening shift a few weeks later. "You know anything about that?"

"Nope." Laura quirks an eyebrow. Ruth's their dispatcher on weekday evenings; she has what humans would call a sixth sense for relationship drama and who's having knee surgery. "Not a whisper. Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

The Sheriff shakes his head. "No." He's quiet for a moment. "The last time Stiles was in there for something, he made six color copies and she charged him for black and white."

"Are you accusing me of running Monica off or her of being unable to use a cash register?" Laura says.

John shrugs. Then he hands her a file folder. "Had a domestic disturbance this afternoon. Seems like Kevin could use some help finishing the paperwork. Making some photocopies."

Laura probably deserves that.

—

She and Derek take the bedrooms on the bottom floor. They smell like old wood, new paint, new furniture: it'll take time for familiar smells to make their way in. Laura has to bury her nose in her old pillow to get any rest at night; Derek has taken to sleeping with his quilt pulled over his head, even though it's summer.

Daphne picks one of the bedrooms upstairs. She's mooching off her parents still, staying at their place for the break, but she brings over some old bedding, books, a worn teddy bear. "Settling in," she says when Laura asks. "I mean, pack house, right? It's my house, too."

"My rules," Laura says preemptively.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to give you a heads up about all the keggers I plan to host." Daphne nods at the empty bedroom across the hall. "Who's that for?"

Laura shrugs. Scott or Stiles, maybe; she doesn't know, but she's still holding out hope for some reason. "Guest room?"

"Oh boy," Daphne says. She pats Laura on the shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
